Just Ginny
by Apple Girl
Summary: Ginevra Weasley is fifteen and her life is getting more complicated. Guys, friends, family, school; It's not easy to balance it all when you're a young witch, espesially when Voldemort is running around. This is her fifth year how she saw it. Rated KT wit


**Just Ginny**

Summary: Ginevra Weasley is fifteen and her life is getting more complicated. Guys, friends, family, school; It's not easy to balance it all when you're a young witch, espesially when Voldemort is running around. This is her fifth year how she saw it.

Author: Apple Girl (Kara)

Rating: **K+** / **T**

Disclamer: I do not own Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley or most of the other characters in this story. They belong to Jk Rowling along withWarner Bros, Scholastic and yak yak yak.

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**Just Ginny**

_I'm in the chamber, on the ground. The cobble stones are bloody. I look up – Harry. He's standing there with his back to me. The Diary is on the floor. I walk over to him. He turns around. It's Tom Riddle. He starts laughing ... laughing ... laughing ..._

I wake up in a cold sweat. Just a dream, just a dream.

I keep having this dream, even more often then I did at the end of First Year. I can still remember everything.

_Harry. He took the fang and stabbed the diary. Riddle. Again and again. I felt like I was going to throw up. I wanted to scream, start crying. I didn't. The ink flowed out of the diary like blood. My heart ached._

Stop it, I told myself. Just don't think about it ...

I sit up in bed and pushed my long, flaming hair out of my face. The golden light from the window is shining into my room. Very peacefully. Almost makes me forget about Voldemort ...

Don't think about it!

I get out of bed and change into jeans and a t-shirt. I wonder if Harry has been having dreams, too. I'll owl him. Hermione, too. I wish she was here, she'd now what to do ... _maybe_.

I head out of my room and down the creaking staircase to the kitchen. Then I hear my parents.

"I'll be glad when we go back to the Black House," said Dad. "I just don't feel safe here anymore."

"Me neither," said Mom. "Honey, I've been thinking ..."

"'Bout what?" mumbles Dad. I think he's having breakfast. There's food in his mouth.

"Ginny."

"What about her?"

"It's just, well, you know she's the only girl in the Weasley family for generations,"

"Yes,"

"It just seems like she's being over shadowed by her brothers. You know, the youngest and all, and she's done a lot to do with the Dark Arts. It just seems ... never mind."

"No, what?"

"Well, she's just ... like someone else, maybe. Not her own self ... I know it sounds silly, but ..."

Dad sighed "Yes, I know what you mean, it's just – Dear God, I'm late for work! Bye, dear!"

Interesting. I hear some rustling in the kitchen and then the closing of a door. I continue down the stairs.

"Hey, Mom," I say.

She jumps. "Oh, it's you Ginny. You startled me," She smiles. "Come down and help with breakfast."

When she asks me to 'help with breakfast' it usually means I bump around the kitchen making a mess for 10 minutes until Mom gets so pissed she sends me off to do something else. Today it only lasted 6 minutes, 15 seconds.

"Gin, how about you go upstairs and wake up Ron."

"'kay"

I keep forgetting it's only Mom, Dad, Ron and me. Bill and Charlie are both off who knows where, Fred and George are at the shop and the Order most of the time, and Percy still isn't on great terms with Mom and Dad, even though he's not insulting Dumbledore anymore.

After breakfast, Mom sends us up to pack up our stuff so we can go to the Black House. I pack my most of my clothes; jeans, shorts, t-shirts, bras, socks, and underwear. Last time I tried to take Mom shopping at a muggle mall she was really annoying so I yelled at her and she said next time I needed bras I can bloody well take Dad shopping instead. I guess thats what happends when you're the youngest of seven and the first Weasley girl in generations. Mom can't handle the stress. I'll have to get Hermione to come shopping with me.

That's a problem - Hermione. I know, she's my best friend and I like her and all, but she's a year older and we're just so different.

I sigh. Nothing in my life is perfect. Maybe I like it that way, though, and just don't know it. I pick up my trunk and carry it downstairs.

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More coming! Rate now! Thanks for reading. And sorry for all the typos and spelling errors. 


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